


Suzanne's Maple Pecan Pumpkin Bread

by thatfamoushappyending (betsytheoven)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Food, M/M, Recipes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsytheoven/pseuds/thatfamoushappyending
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suzanne Bittle loves baking almost as much as she loves her boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suzanne's Maple Pecan Pumpkin Bread

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [The OMGCP fanzine: Chicks, Please!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4694924)
> 
> This was based off of [this recipe](https://www.frontiercoop.com/recipes/spiced-maple-pecan-pumpkin-bread#)

Christmas season was well underway in the Bittle house, and while the kitchen always smelled of spices and sweets around the holiday season, it was extra special this year. This year, Suzanne had concocted her own recipe for a holiday bread to give to little Dicky and she was quite proud of it. She was grinning to herself when her husband walked into the kitchen, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he moved towards the coffee machine.

 

“What has you all giddy this mornin’?”

 

Suzanne giggled, as she bustled around the kitchen collecting her ingredients.

 

“Oh, nothin’ much. I just came up with the best little loaf recipe for Dicky this morning!”

 

Eric settled in at the kitchen table and unfolded his newspaper while his coffee cooled a bit. “He’s sure to like that. What’s this one called?”

 

“Well, it’s a long name, but I think it works: it’s a maple pecan pumpkin bread!” She spread her arms out over the counter as if the pile of ingredients scattered over the kitchen counters would convince her husband that the name works.

 

Eric chuckled into his coffee, “Sounds more like a bread for him and that Jack of his, if you ask me.”

 

Now that stopped her in her tracks faster than a text from Dicky. The halt in rustling and giggling must have tipped her husband off, because he looked over his shoulder at her with an inquisitive look.

 

“What?”

 

Suzanne stepped away from the counter and moved towards the kitchen table.

 

“Eric, how did you...”

 

The soft crumple of his newspaper being folded was the only sound in the kitchen until he sighed.

 

“Suzy, do you really think I didn’t notice? Even if I hadn’t overheard the conversation you and him had over Thanksgiving, Junior has never been...” Eric sighed again, “Bless his heart, he has never been very subtle about it.”

 

Suzanne nodded, “No, no I s’pose he hasn’t been subtle, but sugar pie, I don’t like that we think he had to be.”

 

He downed more of his coffee, perhaps a bit too quickly to be casual. “It’s too early in the morning for this.”

 

Well if that wasn’t like getting between a mama bear and her cub. Suzanne stood up from her chair and looked down at her husband.

 

“No, no Eric I think it’s actually a mite bit late for this. I know it’s not exactly polite table conversation, but gosh darnit he is our son.”

 

The soft morning light that had decorated her kitchen like a soft dusting of powdered sugar now seemed all sharp angles and harsh glare. She hated arguing with her husband, but if there was ever something as important as her husband, it was their precious baby. Eric ducked his eyes, and soon the newspaper was tucked under the coffee cup, his chair turned towards her.

 

“We both know that Junior is,” he cleared his throat, “gay, and that he has something going with that Jack boy.”

 

Suzanne nodded, smiling a bit at the memory of that lovely young man dropping by a few summers ago, just to keep Dicky company.

 

“I heard him come out to you when he was back for Thanksgiving, and it was a bit of a reality check for me. He didn’t trust me. Sugar pie, you’re a good friend to Junior and I... I am the one who makes him feel like he has to be someone else in his own home... and I hate that. He was never much into sports, and even when I got him into hockey, he still seemed scared of me and somehow... somewhere I missed the mark and I don’t know how to repair it.”

 

Suzanne swept over to the fridge and pulled out a pumpkin pie slice to place in front of her love.

 

“Your heart is in the right place, sugar pie. I just think you two need to spend less time squawking at the oddballs at Walmart and more time talking about how much you care about him. And so help me, if you only use sports metaphors...” She raised her whisk at him threateningly.

 

He laughed, “All right, I will call Junior, see if he is up.”

 

Suzanne went back to her bread as her husband shuffled out to the porch. “You should video call him, he likes talking face to face and you know it!”

 

A soft chuckle and an affirmative noise back, and Suzanne could finally settle back into her baking. She started noting down what ingredients were needed, so she could modify from there if this batch didn’t turn out well.

 

1/2 cup of butter (softened)

 

She chuckled a bit, softening butter was a bit like dealing with her boys. They start out all frozen and closed off to warmth and love, but give them time and their own space to figure things out and they will find themselves. They come to the same place, they just usually take a while to get there. There is love between those boys, it just sometimes gets hidden behind baseball caps and ice skates.

 

1 cup maple syrup

 

And then there was The Canadian. The young man who wore the saddest eyes and the tightest smile the first time she met him, but who had filled her kitchen with warmth as soon as he arrived a little over a year later. A year apparently made a big difference, and she liked to think her little Dicky played a part in resurrecting that boy’s smile. He dragged Dicky away from home the following summer to celebrate Canada Day with him, as payback for the Fourth of July. She wasn’t too fond of anyone stealing her baby away, but she saw how pleased Dicky was anytime he was around the boy, so she could never find it in her heart to discourage visits up north. It wasn’t long after that visit up to Canada that Dicky started spending more time in the other country, always bringing back the sweetest maple syrup you ever did find. It was Eric’s favorite thing in the mornings, so she had to hide it to make it last longer than a week.

 

2 eggs

 

Her boys were as delicate as two eggs, so she had to be the mother hen and protect them. Sometimes she was protecting her husband from the terrible elderly man next door, and sometimes she was protecting little Dicky when some of the other ladies at book club started making homophobic comments. She quickly learned that the fastest way to get the attention of those who were trying to break the shells of her poor delicate boys, was to take away their sweets. Literally, she pulled the cookies away from the center of the table when Martha made a snide comment about gay men.

 

“Bless your heart, Martha. I am at this book club to learn and to grow as a person, not to listen to outdated opinions that are insulting to me. Now, chapter seven had this beautiful simile...”

 

They may never admit it, but her boys are fragile. It always has been and always will be her job to keep them from shattering, a la Humpty Dumpty.

 

1 1/4 cups pumpkin puree

 

She had never really imagined what her life would be like at this point. Growing up, she was always imagining what it would be like to be married and settled in a cute little house outside of town, but close enough to her parents that she could never feel lonely. After she met Eric, she began dreaming of having a child with him and then along came lil’ Dicky and well, she felt like she didn’t need to dream anymore. She had all that she needed-- two amazing men in her life that loved her and treated her like a queen (she even had a Harvest Festival crown that Dicky won her one year).

 

But her life was made up of a weird mix of things, as any person’s life usually is, that she never would have wanted for herself. She lost both of her parents before Dicky graduated high school, but in turn grew closer to her in-laws. Her husband loved football, and her son loved figure skating. She spent her weekends on the internet finding recipes, and she was pretty darn sure that her precious child spent his weekends mooning over the son of one of the celebrities of her time. Why, she talked more to Bob Zimmermann, heartthrob of her younger years, than she did to her sister Connie, the one who was always obsessed with Bad Bob. Her life was a strange mix, but it worked.

 

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

 

Baking was Suzanne’s way of adding something sweet into her life.

 

After Dicky left, she had a really hard time trying to keep a good Southern Smile on her face. They had their Pinterest page, and he was constantly sending her texts throughout the day, but she felt like she had lost a large part of her life. Eric took her out to dinner more often in those first few months, and he found wildflowers from the high school most days and brought them home to decorate the kitchen table.

 

But she still felt this strange emptiness in her chest that she couldn’t fill no matter how she tried. She tried book club with some of the other ladies in Madison, but while it helped, it didn’t quite do the trick. Then she tried gardening, and while she was a real whiz in the kitchen, she was practically a murderer in the garden. It only took a few weeks before Eric banned her from touching the garden out back. Finally, she volunteered for a church bake sale and there it was-- the feeling of being whole again. Baking for hours straight made her feel like she was right there in the kitchen with Dicky again, and the feeling of her pies and cakes and cookies bringing joy to others? Well, if that wasn’t just the closest substitute for the happiness Dicky brought into the home, Suzanne had no idea what was.

 

1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour

 

It wasn’t like baking was new to her life, but baking from scratch and baking things that she once considered restricted, for professionals only--that was new. She made macarons one day, and they turned out practically perfect on her first attempt! She ran around the neighborhood delivering her fancy little French cookies to all the neighbors, with a promise to come back with other recipes she decided to try.

 

The little four year old girl down two houses down started calling her Mama Baker and Suzanne practically kidnapped the child then and there to cuddle her forever.

 

It was something new to learn, something she hadn’t really had the time to consider for years. She had always been busy bustling Dicky from place to place, and still managing the house and visiting the in-laws and keeping up with the PTA. After Dicky moved up to Samwell, she hadn’t even considered taking the time for herself to go back and learn things she never got the chance to.

 

So everyday was a new challenge-- a new pastry to learn, a new ingredient to figure out. Like learning the difference between pastry, cake, and all-purpose flour. Not something entirely necessary to her life, but it enriched her life and brought a smile to her face.

 

1 teaspoon baking powder

 

And the joy that came with every photo Dicky sent of the foods he was making up at school never ceased. It could be the thirteenth apple pie picture he sent that year, and Suzanne’s heart would still overflow just a little bit. He always had something sweet to say and she could never get over how thankful she was to be a friend to her dear baby. If she ever did one thing right in life, it was raising that boy to be sweeter than molasses.

 

1 tablespoon pumpkin pie spice

 

Though Dicky never seemed to see it, Eric was just as sweet. The man who she had married seemed hard and a bit abrasive on the outside, but he really was just an awkward boy who didn’t know how to express his love, unless it was towards pumpkin pie. It took her years to get Eric to be comfortable enough to openly express his emotions, and Dicky had never seen that as a priority, always thought it was a waste of time. While Eric never seemed openly supportive of Dicky, she always knew it came out of a place of love, however hidden that place may be from Dicky. She really truly hoped the video call with Dicky would begin to improve things between the two boys.

 

1 teaspoon cinnamon

 

In all honesty, Suzanne wished her mother was still around. Yes, she always missed her dearly around the holidays, but it was more than that. It was the way that her mother had never stood for any nonsense that anyone dished out. With a soft snort, she remembered the time that her mother had yanked Eric’s ear and told him to either propose or buy the whole darn family dinner for Easter because it was getting to be scarring for the rest of the family to have to watch Suzanne get her hopes up every time he did something out of the blue. Eric’s eyes had bulged larger than she had ever seen, and she almost thought her mother had broken him. Then he had just sunk down onto one knee and pulled a ring box out of his pants pocket, “I was going to propose later tonight, but it seems I am been kept from chickening out. This is possibly the most terrifying thing I will ever do, so may I ask if you would do me the tremendous honor of becoming my wife?”

 

Of course, she said yes, had been waiting to say yes for almost a year by that point. Her mother apologized profusely for having ruined the proposal, but Suzanne almost liked it better that way. Eric would have only been more uncomfortable had he actually proposed in front of the whole family on Christmas Eve anyway.

 

Were she still around, she probably would have dragged Eric up to Samwell and locked the two boys in a room until they sorted themselves out. Suzanne had considered it, but knew Dicky would probably clam up and Eric might just say nothing.

 

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

 

Dicky had clammed up last Thanksgiving so badly, she near thought he was going to pass out. It took him half the day to muster up the courage ask her into the other room, and even once they were in the other room, he darn near turned purple from panic. It was times like those that Suzanne held a heavy heart and wished some things were a smidge different in her life. Not that she wished Dicky weren’t who he was, but rather that he didn’t feel so worried about telling her. He rushed through the words, and practically begged her not to tell “Coach.” Lord, she almost broke down in tears right then. She forgot that he still called Eric “Coach,” even after all these years. An accusation never slipped from Dicky’s lips, just fear. Fear that his own father wouldn’t love him because of who he loved. And if that didn’t break her heart, nothing else ever could. She hated it, hated not that he kept it from her, but felt like he shouldn’t, couldn’t tell his parents about such a large part of his life.

 

She was careful not to add too much salt into the batter. Always better sweet than sorry.

 

1/2 cup chopped pecans

 

As she chopped the pecans, she realized she was much stronger than she had ever believed herself to be. She was a woman who brought smiles to the faces of people of all ages in her community. She was a wife who helped her husband feel comfortable expressing his emotions, and she was a mother. She was a mother who was her child’s best friend and who had terrible empty-nest syndrome, but did her best. She survived everything life had thrown at her, and she managed to do it with a charming southern smile that would make her mother proud.

  
  


With all the ingredients prepped and in their own bowls (dry in one, wet in the other), she started getting everything mixed together.

“Sugar pie, Junior wants to talk to you!” Eric called from the living room, just as she turned the oven on to preheat to 350.

 

With a soft smile, she wiped her hands on her apron and bustled into the other room. Dicky was on the laptop, looking a bit worn but not entirely upset. She hadn’t seen such a reassuring sight since her souffles didn’t fall on Thanksgiving.

 

“Dicky! How’re you doing up there? Almost ready for Christmas break?”

 

Bitty nodded softly, biting his lip softly.

 

“He’s convinced Jack to come back for Christmas!” Eric smiled softly and Dicky’s momentary look of panic subsided much faster than it usually did.

 

“Yeah, Coach told me y’all were gonna invite him anyways if I didn’t!”

 

Eric smiled softly as she took a place next to him on the couch facing the laptop, “Well, we can’t imagine you wanting to celebrate Christmas without your boyfriend, Junior. We just want you to have a good holiday.”

 

Poor Dicky looked like he didn’t know how to work his own face anymore, so Suzanne powered on, “Oh! But we can’t take him away from his own family for the holidays! I wonder if they might consider celebrating down south with us... I’ll call Alicia this afternoon.”

 

Both men laughed, “Mama, you’re talking to Jack’s mom now too?”

 

She waved a hand at her boy, “Oh goodness, of course! Bob is very sweet but not a particularly talkative man. Alicia is so pleasant over the phone, I really do want to meet her.”

 

Suzanne leaned against her husband and all three of them chatted until the oven beeped.

 

“Oh, my oven is ready. I have to go get my surprise in the oven!”

 

Dicky asked some question but Suzanne let Eric answer the question as she bustled back into the kitchen with a subtle bounce in her step.

 

She started humming a few Christmas carols as she sprayed the loaf pan with baking spray, and started mixing up the ingredients. Once all the syrup, eggs, pumpkin and vanilla were mixed in with the creamy butter, she folded it into the bowl where she had whisked all the dry ingredients together.

 

Without even tasting it she could already tell this was going to be one of her favorite holiday breads, even if Dicky and Jack didn’t fall in love with it. She quickly spooned the batter into the loaf pan and popped it in the oven. She tasted some of the batter left over in the bowl and hummed to herself at how everything came together in perfect harmony.

 

Her life may not be the perfect recipe that magazines will publish and everyone will clamor to imitate, but it was exactly what she needed and what she wanted. It was sweet, with just enough spice. Eric was leaning against the doorway into the kitchen just as Suzanne finished up setting the timer on the oven and the smile on his face, she realized, brightened her life more than anything she could ever bake.

 

“Are things more settled now with Dicky?”

 

Eric wrapped his arms around her and hummed just softly enough that Suzanne felt the vibrations from his chest but didn’t actually hear it.

  
“Yeah, sugar pie. Everything is better now, thanks to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please come squeal at me about hockey nerds over at [my CP tumblr](betsytheoven.tumblr.com)


End file.
